


It Wasn't The Whiskey He Was Savouring

by Riley_Silver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Cowboy/Ranch AU, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, Yes Peggy is a horse, prompt, soft hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 04:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riley_Silver/pseuds/Riley_Silver
Summary: Definitely not inspired by this post https://www.reddit.com/r/copypasta/comments/cs00pb/ye_good_ol_days/





	It Wasn't The Whiskey He Was Savouring

The sun was low on the horizon as he eased his horse into a trot, sighing in resignation. This was the last farm in this village, everyone else rejected him and he had no where to stay. The fence wobbled precariously as he nudged open the gate, dismounting and leading Peggy by the reins up to the modest looking house.

“Whose there?” a harsh voice shouted into the sunset, the front door letting the inside light out for a moment before closing on the curious faces peering out.

“Only me sir.” he called back, raising his hands slightly. The figure stepped out into the rapidly disappearing sunlight, shotgun in hand and ready to be used at a moments notice.

“What’s your name son?”

“I don’t have one, on account of my mammy passed on before she could give me one”

“Well I’m damned sorry to hear that. What can I do for you?”

He patted Peggy on the nose and she huffed around his pocket looking for treats. “I can’t read nor can I write but I’m real good with horses and can mend them fenceposts I passed on my way in. I won’t ask for much but a hot meal and a place to sleep is all I’d want.”

The man gave him a hard look over and relaxed a little. “You can sleep in the barn. No candles but it should be warm enough. I’ll send my boy out with a blanket and some food, you can earn your keep around the farm.”

He bowed. “Thankee sir, you are kind”

“Any funny business and you’ll be on the road before sunrise.” The man took town a lantern from the porch and stepped off, leading the way to a tall open-ended barn. He pointed to an empty stall at the back of the barn. “You can put your horse there. Be up at sunrise.” He left the lantern with a warning to be careful and his boy would come an collect it.

“Yes sir.” The young man latched the stall door and worked the reins off Peggy, rubbing her nose down and kissing it lightly. “You’re a good girl you are. We’ll be alright here for now” he gave her one final kiss and moved on to her saddle, dropping his saddlebags and bedroll onto the stone floor, pulling the saddle and rug off and slinging it onto the stall door. He could see the sweat stains on her back, and as he looked around the stall for grooming equipment there were footsteps behind him and a soft cough.

A boy around his age was standing there, a blanket and a bowl in hand, leaning on the edge of the stall door. “Here you go”

He took the bowl gratefully and started eating, the carved wooden spoon worn smooth by many years of use. “Thanks.”

“Dad said you don’t have a name” the boy said, raising one eyebrow in interest.

“Not really. My Ma passed before she could give me one.” The stew was heavenly, chunks of juicy fatty meat with potatoes that most likely came from their garden.

“So what do they call you?”

“Steve”

“Just Steve?”

He nodded and finished the stew, handing it back to the boy with a smile.

“What about you?”

“Tony”

“Thanks, Tony” he took the proffered stiff bristles brush and began working it over Peggy’s back, scrubbing her down thoroughly before turning to see that Tony was still standing there, silently watching him work.

“Here, c’mon” Tony watched him pat his horse on the nose and check the water bucket and feed bin one last time, then he vaulted the stall door with ease. He lead Steve up a ladder to a small hayloft where a few bales acted as a barrier so he wouldn’t roll off but the loose hay was soft enough and with his bedroll it would be a nice enough place to sleep.

“So” Tony asked, perching on one of the haybales as Steve carried his saddlebags up the ladder. “Where are you from?”

Steve started unpacking his saddle bags; his spare shirt and pants, his sketchbook and charcoal and various other knickknacks he brought from home. “A small town about 4 days ride from here. I don’t have anything left there”

Tony made a soft grunt and pulled out his hip flask, taking a swig and tossing the flask over, and Steve could see Tony watching him as he sniffed the liquor and took a small sip. The alcohol burnt, a harsh taste that left a warm sensation as it travelled down his throat, but he smiled anyway and tossed it back.

Faintly, they heard Tony’s father calling him back up to the house, and he stood up and stretched. Without realising it they talked long after sundown, about everything and nothing, sips of whisky interspersing the conversation. “I gotta go. Make sure you’re up by sunrise. There’s a water pump in the yard if you wanna bathe beforehand. Bucket is behind the door.” He walked over to the ladder and looked back at Steve, taking one last slow swig of his flask before putting it back in his pocket. There was a look in Tony’s eyes. One that Steve hadn’t seen for a few years, not since Bucky left him. Tony licked his lips, catching the last few drops of liquor that lingered but he knew it wasn’t the whisky he was savouring.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment if you want me to take this further... We'll see how you feel :)


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